


A Day in the Life

by Politzania



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Songfic, damage control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-28 23:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15717369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: After the Battle of New York  (but before the Mandarin rears his ugly head), Tony Stark goes about his day.





	A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> Name of Piece: A Day in the Life  
> Square Filled: S3 - A Day In The Life  
> Pairing: None  
> Rating: General  
> Warnings: None  
> Summary: After the Battle of New York (but before the Mandarin rears his ugly head), Tony Stark goes about his day.

>   
>  _Woke up, fell out of bed_  
>  _Dragged a comb across my head_  
>  _Found my way downstairs and drank a cup_  
>  _And looking up I noticed I was late_

The lyrics of that old Beatles song ran through Tony Stark’s head as he finished getting ready. But unlike the protagonist, he had neither a hat nor a coat or even a bus to worry about -- he simply flicked his wrists, let the latest iteration of his armor form around him and took off for DC. 

While most of Tony’s meetings with Damage Control had been in in New York (seeing as that’s where the damage was) the Powers that Be had requested a face to face meeting to confirm that the federal funding (which comprised less than half of the estimated budget) was being spent appropriately. Tony had tried to duck out of it, but Pepper had insisted, making him momentarily regret making her CEO of Stark Industries. 

“JARVIS, file the usual flight plan, and give Bernard at the Jefferson our ETA.” 

“Of course, sir.” While Tony had worn a suit inside the armor before -- as much to feel like James Bond as for convenience -- it ended up rumpled and left him more disheveled than he preferred to appear. Therefore he’d put on the armor undersuit instead and left early enough to make a side trip. 

Roughly forty-five minutes later -- he kept the trip sub-sonic, but just barely -- Tony was landing on the hotel’s helipad. Not surprisingly, Bernard was already on the roof. “Welcome back, Mister Stark. Your usual suite has been prepared with your current wardrobe. ” Despite his professional demeanor, Tony noted the fascination in the hotelier’s eyes as he watched the armor peel itself off and reassemble itself to stand independently. 

“Want to try part of it on?” Tony asked, and the man’s face lit up like a child’s. 

“Could I?” 

“Sure. Hold your hand out in front of you like this,” Tony demonstrated. “JARVIS, detach left gauntlet and reposition.” The appropriate pieces of the armor floated apart, then re-formed around the other man’s hand and arm. JARVIS had wisely powered down the repulsor, but Bernard was still thrilled, holding his gauntleted hand up in front of his face in astonishment, turning it to and fro.

“Remarkable, Mister Stark. Simply remarkable!” 

 

The hotel’s towncar dropped Tony off in front of the River Entrance at the Pentagon where he was surprised to find a familiar face. “Rhodey! What brings you to our nation’s capital?” 

“I read the news today.” 

“Oh boy.” Tony made a face. “To be fair, a heads up on our baby’s new paint job would have been nice.” 

“ ‘Patriotically pimped out’, Tony? That hurts.” 

“Sorry, platypus. Everhart has a way of getting under my skin, and the old brain-to-mouth filter hasn’t been working so well since,” and Tony twirled one hand in the air, “the whole aliens pouring out of a hole in the sky thing.” 

Rhodey’s expression of mild annoyance turned immediately into one of concern. “I would have been there in a minute, Tony. You know I got your back.” 

“Sure do, buddy,” Tony replied, clapping his friend on the shoulder. “Told One-Eye Fury to add you to the boy-band next time he makes the Assemble call.” As they walked into the building, he scrubbed one hand over his face before finishing off the coffee he held in the other. 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

“You could say that.” He hadn’t gotten more than about twenty minutes of shuteye at a time since Pepper had gone back to Malibu earlier that week. And it wasn’t like he was getting a full eight hours before then, either. “So yeah. Iron Patriot. Rebranding, focus groups. I get it. Don’t like it, but I get it. Anyways, let’s get this dog and pony show on the road.” 

 

Director Hoag took the reins during the Damage Control discussion, which was fine by Tony. He and Senator Stern already had a contentious history, so limiting their interaction was a Good Thing. Besides, she was the one with all the facts and figures; he just paid for things and made everyone else look good. 

He found himself staring at the acoustic tile behind a couple of staffers standing against the wall: Blackburn and Lancashire, according to their nametags Tony's arithmomania kicked in - he estimated it as a four inch by ten inch patch, with an average of one hundred holes per square inch. Nice round numbers. Come to think of it Hoag’s numbers were oddly rounded, as well. Tony made a mental note to compare the current stats against the previous set and check for trends and discrepancies.

The phrase ‘assumed suicide’ caught his attention, and Tony mentally rewound the conversation a few moments. Some guy who was being investigated for hoarding Chitauri technology was discovered sitting in traffic, dead behind the wheel with a bottle of pills in his hand. A photo -- probably pulled from social media -- displayed on the screen. He looked vaguely familiar in a pasty, aristocratically British sort of way. Another mental note to have JARVIS do some digging into the guy’s background. 

They broke for a catered lunch, and Rhodey all but manhandled Tony into sitting down and actually eating something. The food was mediocre, but the thought behind it was appreciated. Tony had been fortunate over the years to have people like Rhodey, Happy and Pepper in his life; he was a lucky man who apparently made the grade, at least in their eyes. 

The afternoon session was just as painfully boring; Tony struggled to stay awake and focused. His mind wandered and he debated whether to try to catch a movie over the weekend. He’d seen ads for a film set right around VE Day in London that sounded interesting. It was getting mixed reviews, but was based on a novel he’d read some time ago and had enjoyed. Maybe he could talk Pepper into going with him, even though it wasn’t really her thing. 

They wrapped up around five o’clock, and Rhodey caught up with him as they left the Pentagon. “You look pretty beat, Tones. Gonna catch a few z’s on the flight back?” 

“Can’t.” 

“Why not? Pretty stewardess too much of a distraction?” 

“No stewardess at all. I flew a suit down.” At Tony’s reply, Rhodey frowned. 

“Uh-huh. Where is it?” 

“The Jefferson. I’ve got a suite for the day.” 

And as if on cue, the hotel towncar pulled up, with the driver calling out “Mr. Stark?” To Tony’s surprise, Rhodey got in with him. He drew Tony into a light-hearted conversation as they rode back to the hotel, then steered him over to the front desk once they got back to the building. 

“Mister Stark won’t be checking out just yet. Could we have some take-out menus, please?” The desk clerk passed over a handful to Rhodey, who nodded his thanks. 

As they got in the elevator, Tony asked, “What’s up, buttercup? I’m feeling mildly abducted here.” 

“You are going to take a nap, then have something to eat before you get back in the suit. You’re not gonna run yourself ragged on my watch.” 

Tony sighed. He really wanted to get back to his workshop and run another set of simulations on the Mark 38. But his companion was digging his heels in, just like he had back in college; it would be easier to just go along with him for now. “Whatever you say, Rhodeybear.” 

Tony would have been happy to just curl up on the couch, but Rhodey ushered him to the bedroom, closing the door behind them both. “Belt and shoes off, strip down to whatever feels comfortable.” 

“Channeling your inner TSA agent, I see,” Tony replied tartly. "Or are you finally going all Dom on me?" Rhodey rolled his eyes, but made a ‘go-on’ gesture, so Tony did as he was told. It wasn’t as if his best friend hadn’t seen Tony in his skivvies before, albeit not in the last couple of decades. “Gonna tuck me in and sing me a lullaby, too?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time. At least you haven’t been puking your guts for the past hour.” Rhodey grinned, but Tony caught the flash of worry in his eyes as the glow of the reactor shone through Tony’s undershirt. He rubbed at the casing self-consciously; both Rhodey and Pepper had asked him to consider surgery to remove the shrapnel and therefore the need for the arc reactor. 

But he wasn’t ready for that, even if it had nearly killed him about a year ago. Strange as it might seem, the reactor had become a sort of security blanket, a symbol of his personal renaissance. He was Iron Man -- and the reactor was a constant reminder of that identity. He couldn’t give it up, not yet. 

“Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight,” Rhodey sighed quietly 

“Wrong song,” Tony mumbled, then shook his head at Rhodey’s confused look. “Never mind. Wake me up in a couple of hours, okay?” He fell into bed and wrapped himself in the comforter. 

“Sure thing, Tones.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering about the odd little bits thrown in -- well, that's just me being self-indulgent and taking the bingo fill a bit too literally. I hope I've passed the audition.


End file.
